Hotel Key

Chapter 21

"I still don't know what in hell we gotta see this lawyer guy for," Daryl huffed. They were getting married, not divorced. The wedding planning was already driving him crazy enough without getting a lawyer involved. It seemed like RickyJo's nana, Jessica, or the idiot wedding planner lady they hired was calling her every ten fucking mintues. And since RickyJo didn't give a single shit about colors or flowers or what kind of cake they were having, she kept asking Daryl what he wanted. And he couldn't say what he really wanted because that was to be left the fuck out of this stupid assorted nonsense.

"Lawyer guy said we have to sign a bunch a'shit for my inheritance money," she repeated for what felt like the tenth time. "I don't know what any of it is, Poppa set all this up."

"Why don't we just go down to the damn courthouse," Daryl suggested. Even Vegas was looking good to him at this point. In fact, anywhere that didn't require a ten minute conversation about the different types of vanilla cake sounded just fine.

"Nana will have my ass if we do that. She's already fuckin' pissed at Jess. And even if we went to the courthouse, we'd still have to meet with the lawyer guy. Ya know I hate all this shit as much as you do so quit yer bitchin'," she snipped. RickyJo rubbed her face with her hands. Then she put her hand on Daryl's thigh and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry," she groused. "I hate all this weddin' bullshit! It's so goddamn stupid. I told Nana we just wanted to have a pig roast at the farm. She's gone completely fuckin' wild."

Daryl pulled the jeep into a parking spot outside the tall building where the lawyer's office was. He put it in park and reached across the seat, pulling RickyJo into his arms. She yielded to his touch immediately, her lips parting as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. In her eagerness to get her body against his, she smashed herself between Daryl and the steering wheel. Her elbow jammed into the horn and the noise echoed loudly through the concrete parking garage, making both of them laugh.

"A week and a half and it'll all be over," Daryl said, reminding her and himself that this insanity wouldn't last forever. "I do wanna be yer husband," he added leaning across the seat and kissing her again.

"I have the best idea," RickyJo said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "After the lawyer thing, let's totally blow off whatever wedding crap we were supposed to do today. We can go back home instead. I'll hump yer fuckin' brains out. And then we can soak in the hot tub and pretend we're already married."

"That is the best idea I ever heard," Daryl agreed. And since the wedding crap they had to do today involved him getting fitted for some stupid suit that he would rather not wear, it sounded even better.

Daryl wrapped his arm around RickyJo as they headed into the building and up the elevator to the lawyer's office. The lawyer's assistant showed them into a room with a giant table and got them something to drink. Then the lawyer guy came in with what looked like about a ten pound stack of papers. Daryl listened to the guy yammer on in what sounded like another language, sipping his water and wishing it was a beer. The lawyer put three different stacks of paper in front of them, telling them that since Miss King didn't know what she wanted, he drafted up three possible prenuptial agreements that would satisfy the conditions outlined in her trust fund. Then the guy started droning on about the trust and the conditions her grandfather set up and the other conditions that were set up before he got the trust. Most of it was set up before RickyJo was even born. Jessica's father was the original designee. Before he died. After that, Augustus set up a separate trust fund for Jessica. And assigned the bulk of the trust and control of all his companies and investments to RickyJo. Daryl tried not to look as bored as he felt. And he was also trying not to laugh at RickyJo who, instead of taking notes, had drawn a cartoon picture of two rabbits humping and then slid the legal pad over for Daryl's inspection.

"Does it matter if we already had sex?," RickyJo asked the lawyer with a little smirk on her face. Daryl choked on his spit and grabbed his bottle of water, trying to pretend like he was just coughing. "...'cause we had sex a lot of times already," she added. Daryl expected some reaction from the lawyer. But it seemed the man was either immune or just used to RickyJo's bullshit. Because he didn't even blink an eye.

"Doesn't matter at all, as long as you're not pregnant," he declared. This time she was the one that coughed and grabbed for her drink. The lawyer looked up from his stacks of paper. "Wait!," he exclaimed, "...are you pregnant?" She held her hand up, making a small space between her thumb and pointer finger.

"Only like this much," she admitted. The lawyer rose from his chair, snatching back the three small stacks of paper that he put in front of them.

"I'll need a minute to redraft these," he announced. "Let me finish going over the rest of the trust conditions first." He flipped through a few more papers, pausing at the end of the stack and looking at it with some peaked interest. "Mr. King made another addendum a few years after he named you designee," the man said. He ran his finger down the page. Then he looked at Daryl and asked him what his name was.

"Daryl Dixon," he told the man, who seemed quite excited about his new revelation.

"Then you don't need a prenuptial agreement," the lawyer announced. Daryl glanced at RickyJo, who looked as confused as he was.

"I thought if I got married without one, then I would lose financial control over the trust and the money would go into some kind of conservatorship?," she asked.

"That's true," the lawyer said, turning the paper around and pushing it towards her across the table. Then he pointed at Daryl. "Unless you marry him. Which you are. So you don't need the agreement." The lawyer ruffed through a few more papers, then announced he would be right back and scurried out of the room. Daryl leaned forward, trying to make some sense out of the papers that were just thrust at them. Papers with his name on them.

"He must have known," RickyJo said, her voice was soft and thick with emotion. When her grandfather died, she just poured herself into her school work. She never really allowed herself to grieve the loss of the only father she ever had. "How could he know that we would end up together?" RickyJo tipped her head back, trying to blink away the tears that were forming in her eyes. All the feelings that she buried down deep inside her after her grandfather's passing were swelling back up inside her. And the hormones of early pregnancy weren't helping matters. She was grateful to Daryl when he pulled her into his arms and held her against his chest.

"He loved ya," Daryl whispered. "...he wanted us ta be happy. Don't cry, it's alright." He rubbed his hand over her back until the lawyer re-entered the room. Then RickyJo pulled herself back into her own seat and grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe her face up.

The lawyer had a large manila envelope in his hands. He ignored RickyJo's emotional outburst and handed the envelope across the table to Daryl and sat down. Daryl flipped it over in his hands. His name was written on the outside, but there was no clue as to what the envelope contained.

"That was in the safe," the lawyer said. "There were instructions to give it to you once the two of you were expecting your first child." From the expectant way the lawyer was watching him, Daryl guessed the man was just as curious as he was about what might be inside the small package as he was. Daryl ripped the flap open carefully, not wanting to damage whatever was inside. When he peeked in, the envelope looked empty at first. Daryl tipped it upside down, dumping the contents onto the table. Several odd looking brass keys fell out. Daryl picked one up, turning it around in his hand and trying to figure out what the heck it was. RickyJo reached over and snagged another one, turning it sideways and reading the small print on the side.

"They're safety deposit box keys," she said, "...to that big bank downtown."

"What the hell did he leave me in a safety deposit box?," Daryl asked.

"I dunno," RickyJo said, "...but we're damn sure about to go down there and find out."

There was some general commotion at the bank. The clerk had to produce the branch manager and check Daryl's ID three separate times. But finally they were standing in a small room. The walls were lined with safety deposit boxes. The manager had to retrieve the bank's copy of each key and then both keys had to be inserted at the same time. Once the long metal boxes were pulled out of their assigned places in the wall, Daryl was starting to feel like he had walked into some sort of redneck super spy movie. The boxes were laid out on the table in the center of the room. And then the bank manager excused himself to allow them some privacy while they explored the contents.

"Cash," RickyJo announced, flipping up the lid of the first metal box. She popped the next box. "More cash." She lifted up the stacks of money, poking under them to see if there was anything more exciting in the box. "He made this hidden key fuss over some cash?," she groused. If the man was that worried about giving Daryl some money, he could have just set up a separate account for him that he gained access to once they were married. Or left the cash with her nana. She huffed and glanced over. Daryl had the lid pulled off the last box and he was holding a handwritten letter in his hands. From the expression on his face, RickyJo was willing to bet that the contents of the letter were more interesting than a few stacks of cash. She moved behind Daryl, resting her chin on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. The letter wasn't very long, but she still only got about halfway through before she had to stop and bury her face into Daryl's back to stop the tears.

"I never knew he liked me so much," Daryl said, almost whispering the words. He folded the letter back up carefully, not wanting to ruin or wrinkle the paper. Turning, he wrapped his arms around RickyJo and kissed the top of her head. They both took a moment to collect themselves.

"Let's see what else is in there before I have a pregnant breakdown in this bank," she suggested with another sniffle. Daryl nodded and turned back to the neatly organized stacks of paper that were under the envelope with his name on it. He rifled through them carefully. But RickyJo realized what they were before he did.

"It's the title to every car in his collection," she gasped. "Ohmygod! He signed all of them over to you!" It took a moment before what she was saying really sunk in. Then Daryl whipped her up into his arms and spun her around. Money was always nice. But it was just money. The cars were something else. Something out of his wildest dream. Just the aston alone had to be worth a million dollars at least. And her grandfather restored it himself. He restored one car every year for most of his adult life. And all of them belonged to Daryl now.

The next half hour passed Daryl by in a blur. He could vaguely remember RickyJo putting the lids back on the safety deposit boxes and calling the bank manager back in to return the boxes into their assigned places. He remembered her ushering him into her jeep and driving them back to the apartment. The next lucid moment he had was when RickyJo pushed him down onto the couch in their apartment.

She was wearing a long sundress made of soft stretchy material that clung to her curves. Her hair was gathered into a bun on top of her head. And she pulled the elastic loose, letting it spill down her back. Then she pushed the thin little straps of her dress off her shoulders one at a time. Shoving the material down, she wriggled her hips until the dress slid down her legs and pooled up on the floor near her feet. Reaching behind her back, she unhooked her bra next, freeing her breasts. The tops of them were tan from the summer sun, while the undersides much paler. When she slid her panties off, she revealed a tan line in that area as well as the large purple bruise that was welling up on her hip from the altercation she had down at the auto shop a few days before. Looking at that made Daryl angry. And he tried to focus instead on the little nautical stars that she had tattooed on the insides of her hip bones where her flesh was still pale and creamy.

"Ya know I've never fucked a millionare before," she teased as she lowered herself down into the carpet in front of him. Pulling at the zipper on his pants, she tugged them down just far enough to let his erection spring free. It was hard and pointing up towards his stomach, the head of it slightly darker in color than the shaft. She leaned down, running the tip of her tongue up the underside of his dick. When she got to the head, she licked off the drop of precum that had already formed there. Then she took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the swollen head.

Daryl moaned, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He wanted to grasp her long golden hair in his hands and thrust his hard length down her throat. But instead, he forced himself to lift his hands, grasping the back of the couch and digging his fingers in. She took him far enough into her mouth to trigger a slight gag reflex and pulled back, spitting on his dick before she slid her open mouth down over his length again, this time following her mouth with her hand. She was gently massaging his balls with her other hand. And when she buried his dick in her throat for the third time and kept it there while she gagged on it, he nearly shot his load right that minute.

RickyJo felt Daryl grasp her gently by the arms, pulling her up and away from his hard length. She knew by now that he wasn't stopping her because he didn't like it. He was stopping her because he was about to come. She went where he pulled her, moving up into his lap and straddling him. Her thighs were spread wide, one knee resting on either side of his hips. She reached between them, grasping his dick and rubbing the head of it back and forth across her clit. Then she guided him inside her, sinking down into his lap and impaling herself on his throbbing erection. She gripped his shoulder with her other hand, gasping a little as she felt her insides do the delicious stretch thing they did to accommodate his thickness.

She clenched, her walls tightening around him as he massaged her breasts, pulling her nipples into hard little points. She rocked her hips into him as he skimmed his hands down her waist to grip her ass. He guided her movements at first. But soon she found her rhythm, gripping the back of the couch and slamming her hips into his over and over. The heat was building inside her as she fucked him harder. And when she came with a loud gasping moan, he came with her, digging his fingers into her hips. RickyJo collapsed against his chest, whispering into his ear how much she loved him and how good he made her feel. Daryl was kissing up the side of her neck, about to tell her he loved her too when someone cleared their throat quite loudly on the other side of the room. RickyJo jumped up, snatching her dress off the floor and holding it in front of her body.

"What the fuck!," she hollered. Merle was standing in her living room, leaning casually against the wall. And who only knew how long he had been there. "How the hell did you get in here?," she asked. "I took yer key away!" He laughed.

"Don't need a key when ya leave the fucking door half open," Merle announced, his eyes raking over her body. She held up her middle finger, flipping him off.

"It's called knockin, ya asshole," Daryl cursed, tucking himself away as he zipped his pants back up.

"It's called me driving all the way into the motherfuckin' city fer some pansy ass weddin' suit bullshit and yer ass didn't even bother ta show up," Merle spit back. Daryl groaned, leaning back against the couch and covering his face with his arms.

"Fuck!," RickyJo hollered, snatching up her bra and panties off the floor before she stomped off to her room to put her clothes back on. She was cursing up a storm the whole way until she slammed her door shut behind her. She took a quick sink bath, washing her armpits and between her legs before she pulled her clothes back on and gathered her hair into a sloppy bun on top of her head. She shuffled back out into the living room with a toothbrush in her mouth, aggressively scrubbing her teeth and spitting the foam into the kitchen sink. She tossed her toothbrush on the counter and cupped her hands under the water to rinse her mouth out. She waited until Daryl walked away to take his turn in their bathroom. Then she turned and narrowed her eyes at Merle.

"If ya took any pictures of me just delete them right now," she demanded. Merle held his hands up, feigning mock innocence. "I saw the shit ya had saved on yer work computer," she accused. RickyJo saw a brief glint of shock and embarrassment in Merle's eyes. But he was quick to cover it up with laughter.

"Just relax babygirl," Merle taunted. "...I don't need pictures of what I already saw up close and personal." The color rose in her cheeks immediately. Merle did just see her naked. But from the look on his face, RickyJo knew he was referring to their previous sexual encounter. Something she was sure was going to be brought up again and again. Especially now that Merle knew he could get a response out of her.

"Well I hope you enjoyed it," she hissed back. "...'cause you ain't ever gonna see it again." Merle chuckled as he watched her stomp off into the bedroom to retrieve Daryl. Then he grumbled under his breath to himself.

"We'll see about that."